


A phone call away

by thatdragonchic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Please be gentle, Smut, Stydia, That's it, and then nobody will let them, it's actually kinda okay, it's not horrible, ive never written a full on smut story before???, so this was new, thats the plot, the plot is literally they just wanna have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: Stiles and Lydia are dying to get in the others pants, but somebody is always there to interrupt them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first smut fic, I don't know how I really feel about it. But it was something else. I mean it's definitely not bad, or like the worst thing you'll ever read, it's just sort of OOC a little bit?? I dunno. I tried. Be gentle with this.

Stiles kissed down the column of her neck, Lydia comfortably seated in his lap. Her hands were twined in his hair, her hips would occasionally grind down into his body. His would instinctually rut back, his lips pressing more sloppy when they did, and she would laugh with a sort of malice, as if tutting him- telling him not to do that. To keep his composure. He would part with a smile, his eyes would be barely flutter open and she looked so happy. He wanted it to last forever.

He was about to say something but maybe he spoke too soon, maybe they both forgot forever was something they didn’t have because low and behold, the door slammed shut downstairs and his father was bellowing about being home. He sounded cranky and the two were not about to push that boundary. Separating with unease, they adjusted and were able to compose themselves with slow tempo yet quick time as his father reached the top of the steps and the middle of the hallway to open the door. They looked innocent enough, with books open, and eyes on their phones, playing bored. 

“Studying going alright?”

“Yeah… just trying to get some last minute cramming in. How was work?” Stiles queries casually, as if Lydia Martin wasn’t just grinding down into his lap with vigor. 

“Work was good. Nobody was murdered by a werewolf, so I guess it’s better than most days.”

“For you and me both,” Stiles says.

John manages to laugh and smiles. “What do you two want for dinner? Since a certain son of mine couldn’t be bothered to cook at all could he?”

“He was busy. It’s not his fault. We should just forget that he forgot to cook dinner and maybe let Lydia pick something to eat.”

Lydia smiles warmly at the two’s bickering, and thinks for a moment. “I could go for Pizza,” she says knowing how happy it would make Stiles. “I like pizza.”

Stiles smiles warmly at her. “Not if you don’t want pizza,” he says. “What’s your favorite place to eat? We can go out, I was working yesterday. I made some hardcash, I can pay off dinner.”

“You don’t have to,” John cuts in. “I can pay for dinner just fine.”

Lydia nods. “Then can we go somewhere cozy, like a diner?”

“I know the perfect one, dad used to take me and mom there all the time. It was her favorite place.”

“Then I want to go there.”

“We can go,” John agrees, smiling and Stiles gives this award winning smile that he can’t help but think belongs all to his mother, she had given the same one.

  
  


Okay, so they didn’t mean to end up making out before the first bell. He was just picking her up for school that morning, and now she’s in the backseat of his car, tugging at the buttons on the front of his shirt. It doesn’t help that he decided to wear some button up polo, that fits around his arms a little too nicely. 

“Since when do you have arms that big?”

“What is  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

“You never wear anything fitted and I mean look at your arms. They’re jacked.”

“You’re jacked, now am I stripping or are you just going to get off looking at my arms?”

Lydia’s mouth goes dry and for a second she’s not sure what to say, but it doesn’t really matter because he’s kissing her suddenly, and it all feels so desperate. But the first bell rings in the distance and the sound of kids still rushing in last minute is evident, people trying to get inside as quickly as possible, seniors parking last minute. They part and his lips are swollen and his hair is messed up. She throws his sweater back at him and he smirks, doing his first few buttons up.

“We can miss first period.”

“Unless you want them to call our parents for skipping, we can’t.”

Stiles bites his lip. “Study hall?”

“Scott would notice we’re gone.”

Stiles kisses her again. “Lunch?”

“Pack would notice.”

“So?”

“So? Do you really want them knowing we took a quicky in your car.”

“It could be a slow-y at my house.”

“During lunch?”

“Sure we have an hour for lunch. It sure as hell won’t take  _ me  _ an hour to get off. Unless it takes you that long to get off.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Lydia I’m just joking,” he whispers lightly. “Hey we can wait if you’re nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous? I’ve had sex before.”

“So? Sex is weird and it makes you nervous. I’m nervous, if you don’t want to we don’t have.”

“If I didn’t want to, we wouldn’t be in the back of your car with your arms out in the open like that.”

“Really you’ve just committed deadly sin, removing my sweatshirt to see my arms. Jesus christ, Lord have Mercy. Please.”

“Don’t be an ass. Your arms are nice!”

“They’re just arms.”

“And my boobs are just boobs. You still think they’re nice.”

“Good point. Now come on, we’re going to be late.”

 

Of course, Stiles and Lydia could just never seem to catch a break. It seemed like they couldn’t get much past a few buttons down without being interupted. But a few weeks into the pursuit, Lydia decides to come in tops off. She has a cute lace bandeau on, a high waisted, white pleated skirt and ballerina flats. Her hair is pulled to the side and she’s standing in front of him as he survey’s her, deciding what he’s supposed to do about this, her porcelain skin peaking through the lace of the bandeau, the skirt ending on the creamy, midway point of her thighs.

“Are you just going to do something about it or get off staring at my chest?” She asks, mocking his phrase from the week or two prior when he’d kissed her in the car. Stiles seems more unphased then she was, kissing her collar bone.

“Oh I’m definitely going to do something about it. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”

She finds herself abashed, detered by his sexual confidence that he just seemed to ooze. “Is that so?” she manages in a mumbles and he nods, lips ghosting along her neck. He’s so close and she just wants to lean into him, grab fistfulls of his hair and let him kiss her neck until he’s sucking her blood from her veins. She wants bruises so purple her concealer can’t cover them. She just wants him close and wants him close for as long as possible, and possibly while riding him until he’s a moaning mess. (part of her wants to believe he’d power bottom her- part of her wants to think he’d just let her take what she needs while kissing her neck and moaning all the way through.) 

“Totally,” he replies breathlessly (and all from just looking at her), eyes gazing up from where he was, moving to kiss her lips gently, hands pulling her closer by the waist and she instinctively moves to hook one of her legs around his hip, sitting down along his lap as the other leg dangles between both of his. Stiles hand shamelessly rests to hold her by the romp, a sigh falling past her lips, parting against his and he lets them part for a moment before diving in for a deeper kiss.

Her arms wrap around his neck, one hand holding him by the soft hairs, the other gripping at the blade of his shoulder, trying to stop him from parting at all. The closer the better, his contact was key. Her hips grinding down on his thigh and he didn’t stop her, the two falling over on the bed, hovering over her, she couldn’t help but shimmy a bit, tugging at his shirt. He parts and tosses the t-shirt over his head and across the room to his desk. She’s staring up at him with wide green eyes. 

“Whoa… abs,” is her instinctual reply. Stiles laughs, of course he laughs.

“Yeah I have them.”

“No you like  _ have  _ abs.”

“Mmm You think so?”

“Yeah… I mean… wow… abs,” she whispers, hands trailing up his sides, kissing at a mole. “And a cute mole.”

“Abs and a cute mole, I’m a winner in Lydia Martin’s book, huh?”

“Yeah. Like you’re hotter than Jackson, probably more of a dom than Jackson, have some killer abs, and a cute mole on your side.”

“I mean I would probably rather burn that mole off, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Why? I love your moles.”

“My moles are gross.”

“They’re so cute. They’re like stars.”

Stiles smiles at that and she kisses the mole again. She beams up at him, hugging him close to her, kissing up his abs, planting her kisses along his happy trail. Stiles lets her, a hand moving to run through her hair, undoing the little braid she had it in. 

“Blow Job?” she offers.

“Pass.”

“Pass?”

“ _ Pass.  _ I’ve been waiting too long to see Lydia Martin tops off and in my bed, I think we both deserve to get straight to the point.”

“Totally, straight to the point,” she agrees. He steps back to undo his pants and she stands out to unzip her skirt. They’re equally naked by then, just in underwear. She crawls the length of the bed, knowing full well his eyes are on her, to the pillows, turns and collapses there, legs spread. He grabs a condom from the drawer on his bedside then plucks it from his fingers with his teeth, crawling up to meet her. 

He invites himself between her parted legs, hooking her legs around him to grind her clothed crotch against his own. Hips pressing down into each other, rubbing through the material and she seems so blissed out. Her eyes shut, head pressed to the pillow, hips moving to meet his, her chest rising and falling a little faster- as if she’s looking to maintain composure. He’s so ready for this, this was their moment, everything felt so set, but their stupor is broken with the loud buzzing of his phone on the dresser, their eyes clearing of the haze that had set on them, the two meeting eyes and she smiles, leaning up to take the condom wrapper from between his teeth, her own clamping down on the other end. He surrenders it and sighs, rolling over to Answer Scott’s phone call.

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey, so unidentified body was just mauled by what we think was a werejaguar on the cross between Broadway and fourth. We need you ASAP- also do you know where Lydia is? I tried to get a hold of her phone but she’s not answering.”

Stiles glances to the girl on his bed, laying on her side and watching him with wide, curious eyes. He resigns with irritation. “No I don’t but I’ll go pick her up and we’ll be there soon.”

“Okay great. Try to be quick please?”

“Yeah, sure.” He hangs up.

Lydia groans into her arm. “We have to  _ leave _ like right now?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah we do. You can wear one of my sweatshirts if it makes you feel better.”

“Next time, we should not answer the phone.”

“You know they need us.”

“I need you. Scott doesn’t seem to care.”

“He doesn’t know better. Come on, we’ll finish when we get home.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

 

The evening was cold and bitter, more cold or bitter than either Stiles or Lydia, who were both standing there examining the body. Going through the motions. Stiles had ruled that it couldn’t be a werejaguar, the markings didn’t match up. So now they need to piece it together. Who did it and why. Who would do this and why would they do it?

Neither Stiles or Lydia were up for confrontation, not with their bodies so heated from their previous session. So they let everybody else slip by. Everybody else wonders what’s gotten them so angered. They don’t say a word, they don’t think they have to. They speak to each other in broken whispers and passive glances to get a message across.

“So what do you think?” Scott asks.

“That you should start calling at better times,” Stiles answers.

Scott’s head tilts, before realizing the mistake. He opens his mouth but Stiles beats him to it.

“It’s probably a wendigo,” he says. “Used the talons for the kill and it’s forceps for the bite. It was just a feeding.”

“On a human.”

“Wendigo’s gotta eat. I’m not tracking it down now.”

“We have to.”

“It’s nine thirty.”

“Then we need a plan.”

Stiles and Lydia don’t get home that night with a drop of energy, the plan got made, the body got stashed, Stiles and Lydia collapsed in bed exhausted.

“We’re staying abstinent until marriage,” Lydia says.

“It seems like that’s their goal,” he retaliates, kissing her cheek softly before curling into his sheets and hugging her torso. He yawns before clamping his mouth shut and his eyes drift naturally to sleep. She hugs his head and kisses it, her own eyes following suit.

 

It was a Saturday morning and the curtains were drawn, the light that streamed in was dull and pale, it made his eyes stand out against the dark. They looked feral and untamed, they were wild and so were her own. Being pinned underneath him was her favorite consequence, and she doesn’t expect it to get far but there’s always the thrill of the chance, that they might just hit that base, that he might get his lips past the line of her breasts, that she might get far enough to take his clothes off. She’s seen him in too-tight boxers a few many times, she’s itching to see the skin just past, she’s a bit desperate to kiss past his naval.

And Stiles feels it deep in his core, this desperate want to get off between her thighs, the kind of pleasure that could get him high. But just like Lydia he knows better. He knows that htey might not get far, he knows that unclipping her bra meant a phone call. But he does it anyways. He tugs her little body off the mattress, their lips parting and she’s smiling. (dear god he loves that smile. He thinks he could die by looking at it.) He unclasps her bra and kisses her breasts, each getting individual attention. Sucking and nipping and biting. She’s moaning and moaning and moaning. He’s warped in her, sucking a bit harder, biting in all the right places. She’s engrossed. 

Her hips are rutting into him, she’s just so needy. She just wants him all day. Wants him all afternoon. Nothing could possibly have spun the town on it’s axis so early, could it? Not while the neighbors were still getting bagels for breakfast, could it? Stiles holds her thigh with one of his large hands, kissing her left nipple a moment more before parting. 

“Think we could make it?”

“We better make it.”

Stiles laughs and he’s leaning up to kiss her, she’s catching him with ease. The smile barely fades as he kisses her. Parting between huffs of laughter, he’s just so in love. So warped in her smile and her body. She hooks her fingers around the waistband of her boxers, if it doesn’t get far today, she wants to say they got far enough for her to finally see what she was dying to see most. She hopes more than ever his dick was not disappointing, she couldn’t wait this long to be disappointed with his appeal. 

He’s waiting on her move and she yanks the material down, blinking a bit, she’s far from disappointed, Stiles can’t help but laugh at the look on her face. “Are you secretly a virgin? Why are you so surprised?”

“I…” she blushes. “I’m not about to answer that question. Can’t I just admire my boyfriend?”

Stiles kisses her lips gently and shrugs. “If only that were an option. I give it another minute before the phone goes off or somebody walks in.”

“Then you’d better get to business mister,” she whispers and he can’t help but smile, tugging her own panties to her knees, letting her adjust on her knees to pull them all the way off. He breathes in deeply, just looking her over, gasping softly as her hand wraps around him, pumping slowly. Stiles sighs, his forehead moving to press to hers, his hand pressing between the two of them and rubbing in slow circles against her clit. He mouth falls open but she’s speechless, her free arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. His lips are passionate against hers, their kiss sloppy with want and need. 

He presses her to the bed and she’s falling to his pillow, they’re both smiling as they part. “Thirty seconds,” she mumbles with jest. Stiles laughs.

“We’re past that, love.”

She presses a kiss to his lips and he presses back without hesitation, fingers slipping further between her legs, rubbing her for stimulation. Her hips rock up to meet him, her hands gripping to hold his hips, the line of his erection pressing to her lower belly as they kissed. There was no separation to be had, they just needed touch and kiss. 

Her legs spread without hesitation and reaches into the dresser for a condom, letting Lydia pluck it from his finger tips to open and roll onto him. “Are you sure?” he mumbles.

“Absolutely positive now-” she stops midsentence, gasping softly as he presses between her legs, her eyes are fluttering, she can’t seem to keep them open and he has the most amused look on his face, but it isn’t long into their bliss that it disappears. Chasing their orgasms into oblivion, rolling around the bed, the sheets stood no chance at staying clean. Something sweet became something desperate. Until they were both washed out into the bed, and in the aftermath, as they were both panting, the phone finally rings.

Stiles tosses the condom and wonders if he should pick it up at all. Lydia is resting alongi his side, watching him. “You should pick it up,” she mumbles. “I’m going to go pee.”

“Why don’t they ever call you?”

“Because I don’t pick up.” 

“Right of course.”

She kisses his cheek and he smiles, answering. “Hello?”

“Hey Stiles, did you want to join Scott, Mason, Theo and I for video games-” Liam starts on the other end.

“You know what? That sounds great but I’ll have to pass.”

“Why?”

“I’m working on this uh project and I just can’t,” he says, trying to control his breathing. 

“Oh… uhm… okay.”

Lydia is padding back in with one of his flannels around her naked body, adjusting the sleeves, Stiles biting his lip. “Listen, Liam, I’ll text you or something. I’ve gotta go, bye.”

He hangs up before Liam could say anything and Lydia is giggling. “What?” she asks.

“Nothing they just wanted to hang out.”

“And you said no?”

“I can hang out with them anytime. You’re exclusive most days.”

Lydia laughs, walking over to Stiles and he hugs her body into his, kissing the space between her breasts. “It’s only exclusive to others. Not so much to you.”

“I think I’ll spend my day here with you.”

“Mmm I’m okay with that.”

“Good.”

She kisses his head and he has a feeling it’s about to be the perfect day. 

 


End file.
